


Trained Me Not To Love (After You Showed Me What It Was)

by diplomatsson



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bloodplay, M/M, Masochism, So much angst, Solo family feelings, Unhealthy Relationships, ben solo is so pure, hux is such a dick but we love him, i love being a sinner, inner conflict, the same applies to kylo, unrequited love (or is it??)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:37:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5691457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diplomatsson/pseuds/diplomatsson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A college au spanning three-four years, detailing Ben/Kylo's first kiss, first time, first love (whether he realises it or not) and his inner conflict between good and bad, told through his relationship with Hux.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trained Me Not To Love (After You Showed Me What It Was)

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS MY FIRST PUBLISHED FIC I'M SO NERVOUS. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this thing I put together and would love to hear feedback. I'm trash and my trashcan home is here: jamescooksjr.tumblr.com.
> 
> BY THE WAY I obviously don't promote the kind of relationship portrayed in this fic, I'm fully aware it's unhealthy and I'm definitely not encouraging a relationship like this one. It's just my perspective on how things might play out. It's Kylo and Hux, of course it's not going to be a healthy relationship.
> 
> Also, my sister wrote some fics that are loosely based on this college au that I came up with. Her username is glittagal333 if you'd like to read her stuff.
> 
> Enjoy the sin!!!

It's a warm Wednesday afternoon. The college football grounds are steadily beginning to fill with students, mostly freshmen, who are dressed in sports gear, the majority of them wearing mildly nervous expressions as well. The sun is bright and warm but not too hot, and the grass is green with summer. Ben stands off to one side of the football field, just in front of the bleachers, arms crossed and observing the new hopefuls who had gathered there today.  
He looks to his father, who is stood beside him. Ben's expression almost mirrors the young football players, "What is it you want me to do, exactly?" he asks Han, who keeps looking straight ahead even when his son speaks.  
"Help me out, basically," Han simply replies, "assess the students, see who's right for the team."  
"Dad, you know I'm not interested in this kind of thing," Ben says, not hurtfully, but truthfully. He laughs nervously, a little, maybe out of habit, "I don't think I'll be that much help."

  
Han reaches an arm towards Ben and claps him on the back, perhaps a tiny bit too hard, but Ben doesn't mind. "Are you kiddin' me?" Han's eyes move from the field and the potential football players, up to Ben, who was a couple inches taller than his father, "you're gonna do fine."  
"You're just saying that because you're my dad," Ben mumbles, but still, he smiles a tiny bit.  
"Honestly? You're probably right," Han admits casually, with his signature smirk, "but I think you could be good at it if you just kept trying. We could be Solo and Solo, the dream team."  
Ben laughs, shakes his head, "I don't know about that, but it's a very, very small possibility," he pauses. He could try, he supposed. His father was so determined, and clearly had a lot of (quite possibly misplaced, in these circumstances) faith in him. "I'll-- I'm gonna sit over here, okay?" he made a vague gesture behind him, to the bleachers, "on the sidelines, or whatever. You can coach, you being the coach and everything, and I'll... observe," an amused quirk of his lips, "as best as I can."

  
Han nods after a moment, "Good enough. I'm gonna head over there now-- you keep your sharp eyes on 'em, got it?"  
"Got it," Ben repeats, though internally he was sure he absolutely did not, "but you can't blame me if I come up with jack shit," he called to his father's retreating figure, "you know what you set yourself up for."  
"Less attitude, more observation," Han calls back, and the reply makes his son laugh.  
"You're telling me 'less attitude'? You realise how hypocritical that is, Dad?"  
Han stops in his tracks and turns back to look at his son, smiling, "You sound like your mom."  
Ben shrugs, "Not a bad thing." He thinks about how his mother always said that Han loved to have the last word, and that it was something that Ben must have inherited. He wondered what she would say if she saw her son and her husband yelling back and forth across a football field. Maybe he would tell her about it later on, just to find out.

When Han had finally made it to the waiting students, without any more provocation from his son, Ben took a step backwards, and another and another until he reached the bleachers. When he sat, he noticed someone else there too, on the otherwise empty area. Someone he hadn't seen before, someone he knew that if he had seen before, he would've remembered. A man, with pale skin, bright, orange hair that was combed into a side-parting, and a stern expression. His clothes were green; an extremely dark, almost black green, which highly contrasted the white henley and pale blue waistcoat that Ben wore. The orange-haired, blue-eyed (something Ben had just noticed) man was extremely focused when Ben caught sight of him, peering through a camera lens and snapping photos every few seconds of the football players, the fields - maybe he was the college newspaper photographer? At that point, Ben decided that he was going to find out.  
"Do you work for the newspaper?" he asks, his gaze going between the football field and the man taking pictures. After a long moment, he realised that he received no response, and he didn't think he was going to get one. The man just kept taking pictures, as if Ben wasn't even there. He tried a second time.  
"Hey, did you hear me?"  
This time, he spoke. "Yes, but I'm in the middle of something right now, can't you see that?"  
His voice was monotone, with no particular feeling in his words, his accent implying he was well-off, or was related to someone who was. And, though what he said wasn't exactly polite, Ben didn't find himself caring very much. He only tried to coax more conversation out of him.  
"Well, do you?"  
A quiet sigh from the photographer, who hadn't stopped for a second to make eye contact with Ben, "Do I what?"  
"Like I said; do you work for the newspaper?"  
Another snap of the camera lens. "Yes."  
"Are you a freshman?"

  
Snap. "Yes."  
"I thought so," Ben said, knowing he should probably drop the conversation, but not doing so, and not really knowing why, either. "I'm a second-year student."  
Silence. Snap.  
"You know, my dad's the football coach," Ben points out into the crowd of students when he finds Han amongst them. He doubts the orange-haired man even notices, "I'm sure you've heard of him. Han Solo?"  
No response. There's silence between them for a second or two, the sound of Han's voice in the distance addressing the students, the students chatting amongst themselves. The sound of birds and bugs and summer.  
Ben shouldn't have spoken again, but he does anyway. "Have you?"  
Snap. No eye contact. "Yes."  
The young Solo swallows, his throat suddenly feeling dry, this man's short answers suddenly getting on his nerves. Suddenly warm, and slightly uncomfortable. But persisting. "What's your name?"  
This time, the man turns to face him, leaving his camera to rest in his hands and, for the first time, making eye contact with Ben. His slightly sour expression, however, doesn't change. "What's yours?"  
Ben presses the palm of his hand against his own chest, "Me? I'm Ben. Ben Solo."  
"Ben Solo," the man repeats, lifts his camera up once again and takes a photo of Ben, right there and then without warning. Then he stands up, leaves his camera hanging around his neck, brushes down his clothes and says, "Hux."  
Ben's brow furrows in confusion, "Hux?"  
"My name," Hux clarifies, then he extends a leather-gloved hand, an invitation for Ben to shake it, which he does. Before he can say any more, Hux walks away, and he has left. Ben glances at him as he goes and then back to the football players, thinking up things he could say about them that were convincing enough for his dad.

 

* * *

 

 

The next time Ben speaks with Hux, it's at a college party. He hasn't been to his father's football practices in months, and hasn't even talked with his father in days. His conversations with his mother are short and sharp, and he had begun to act out like never before. In the recent months, he met a man named Snoke, the Dean of First Order House, and Snoke's thoughts had infected his brain like nothing he had ever experienced, changed him, and made him question every single thing about himself. He was darker now, more volatile and angry, and he smiled less. In the last month, Ben had been transferred from Resistance House to First Order House, after an outburst of anger resulted in him destroying the Resistance common room and hallways from floor to ceiling. His mother, the Dean of Resistance, hadn't wanted him to go, believing that going there would only make him worse, but he had practically demanded he go. Some days he believed it was because he belonged in First Order, that this was his true path, and other days he considered that maybe he had left to protect his mom, to make everything easier for her, even though he probably only made things worse. He wasn't entirely sure in his conscious mind why he made the decision to leave, and this was the effect Snoke had on him. He had no real idea why he did anything at all any more, like his mind had been separated in two. Like he couldn't tell the difference between right and wrong. It was a wonder Leia still wanted to help him.

  
All his mother and father did now was fight, and it was fully because of him. They all knew it and they all never denied it. Sometimes Ben didn't understand why he would react to his mother's softness with sharpness, with venom; he didn't understand why, when his father shouted at him, he felt the need to shout louder, to make his hands and fingers bleed with the things he broke, the objects he destroyed out of his own pure, unexplained anger. Sometimes he felt like he didn't have control over his own mind, his own heart and his own decisions. And that was all because of Snoke, too. But he loved it. A part of him definitely did. And that's what he didn't understand the most.  
He didn't like his name any more. He didn't like being called Ben. He didn't like being called Solo.

Hux was a student of First Order House, too. He had been ever since he was a freshman, and now he was a sophomore. This meant that he saw Ben more often, and Ben saw him, but it never went further than seeing. They never spoke, and hadn't spoken at length since the day they met, just a few short conversations where Ben did all the talking and Hux, well, he didn't even do the listening. He mostly ignored him. Ben wondered about Hux, wondered about if Hux ever wondered about him, and hated the thought as soon as he thought it. But, at First Order, he had no friends yet, wasn't keen on making any, and no-one there wanted to be his friend, either. He hadn't exactly gotten himself the best reputation over the past while. So, when he found himself at a party where he had no friends, Hux was the closest thing he had to one. And so he went looking for him, and found him out one of the dormitory's back exits, on a cold winter night, blowing cigarette smoke from the corner of his mouth out into the cool air.  
"I thought you would've made friends here by now," Ben says as he slips out the exit door to stand next to Hux, who looks over at him when he speaks - that was something new.

  
"I have," Hux replied, his voice as full of contempt as Ben remembered, "I just like to be alone sometimes, too. And yet, here you are."  
Ben ran a hand through his hair, amazed at how thin his patience had become in recent weeks. "What's your problem with me?" he straightforwardly asks Hux, "ever since we met all you've done is been an asshole to me."  
"Who said I had a problem with you? I took your picture, didn't I?" then Hux smiles, the kind of smile you'd want to wipe right off, "Ben Solo. I've heard about what you've done. We all have."  
Ben squints, takes a gulp of the vodka he has in one hand and swallows it down, says nothing.  
"You've become gaunt since I saw you last. Rather, since we last spoke," Hux continues, and his unwavering eye contact makes Ben wish he had never wanted it in the first place, "pale," Hux ran a finger up Ben's bare arm as he said the word, as if he needed confirmation - in a second, his hand was back at its side, "your hair's grown rather long. You're a mere shadow of the man I met on the bleachers," he says all this like it makes him happier than anything, "you're all drained of colour."  
"You think so?" Ben asks, regretting the words immediately, angry that he gave in to Hux's taunts.  
"I never said it was a bad thing," Hux comments.  
"You never said it was a good thing," Ben shoots back, but Hux doesn't satisfy him with an answer. Just takes another drag of his cigarette.  
"What do you think of your new Dean?"

  
Hux's question takes Ben aback a little - it was something he was unsure he could truthfully answer. He thought of Snoke, of his uncle Luke, of his mother and father...  
"There's no-one I admire more," Ben tells him after a silence, with only the mild wind whirling around them, but he isn't sure if he says it confidently enough, if his voice wavers or--  
"Liar," Hux confirms his suspicions, and faces him full on, his smirk more smug than ever, "Tell me how you tried to prove yourself to our Dean, Ben. Tell me how you think throwing a hissy fit and wrecking your dear old mother's common room is a sign of strength," his tone grew sterner, more angry, "it's not working. No-one takes you seriously. You behave like a child."  
Before he knows it, Ben is grasping onto Hux's wrist, his grip tight enough that he could feel the other man's pulse against his fingers, his fingernails dug into the skin of Hux's arm. But, if anything, Hux looks even more elated at the contact, in a sickening way, not daring to look away from Ben.  
"Shut up," Ben's tone is dark, his grip getting tighter still, but Hux seems unphased. Happy, even. He uses his free hand to take a drag of his cigarette, and pulls himself even tighter against Ben, so that their faces are centimeters apart. Ben tingles all over.  
"You're weak," Hux whispers, his lips almost touching Ben's, his eyes never losing contact once. He blows cigarette smoke right in Ben's face, slowly, and Ben just stands there, his eyes fixed on Hux's, his fingers digging into Hux's skin. He just stands there, and lets Hux play with him, like he's frozen in place, with no hope of ever moving again.

  
Then, like a switch goes off in his brain, he lets go of his hold on Hux, his heart thumping against his rib cage.  
"I-I have to go," he tells Hux, and moves forward into the cold, down all the pavements of the college campus and through the gates, and away to who knows where.  
Hux just stands where he was before, holds his cigarette between his fingers and exhales smoke, like Ben had never been there in the first place.

 

* * *

 

 

Ben is a college senior now. He's also no longer known as Ben around the campus. In the later months of his sophomore year of college, he changed for good. For certain. Snoke had summoned him to the Dean's office again and again, darkening his mind and thoughts further every time, disassociating Ben with who he was and practically creating a separate person within one body. A different mind, a whole new persona. Snoke had called him Kylo Ren.  
He was taught to disregard his parents, to remove everything he felt for them from his mind, to take every ounce of sweetness that Ben had possessed and turn it into anger and hatred. It was like some kind of therapy, some mind trick that Ben had no control over. He was like a whole new person; he had the shortest temper and reacted violently, destructively and aggressively to anything even mildly unpleasing, he was rude to everyone he met, selfish, and he didn't even consider that what he did could hurt anyone, didn't apologize, and didn't even think that anything he did might have been wrong. He seemed to have no filter. He just did whatever he wanted to, no thinking of the consequences, no thinking about how his actions could affect anyone else. He acted rather immaturely. That's who Kylo Ren was.

  
And Kylo spent more time with Hux than Ben ever did. Ever since the night they spoke at the party, when Hux did... whatever he did, they had seen each other more often over the months. Although it was never on pleasant terms, everyone else had steered clear of Kylo when his personality continued to worsen (he didn't have a personality anymore, really, more so just a collection of negative feelings), and Hux hadn't. He hadn't exactly stayed - he wasn't even really there at all in the beginning, anyway - but he was someone that Kylo could go to, despite how cold and full of vitriol and unbridled anger he was, he was someone Kylo could go to, and...  
that was it, really. Neither of them truly cared about each other, or if they did, they had a very strange way of showing it, which was one insulting, demeaning and humiliating the other, back and forth, until there was nothing left to say. Still, they didn't necessarily need to see each other, but they chose to, so there was something that kept one coming back to the other. Kylo had no idea what Hux's reason was, seeing as he seemed to genuinely, properly hate him, but Kylo's reason was because Hux was his only friend. It was weird to consider someone who he was sure hated him, who didn't nothing but display how much he hated Kylo, as a friend, but he did. Because he didn't know what else to do. He could be alone, if he wanted, but he didn't. He preferred Hux crushing him into the dirt, making him feel like absolutely nothing, over solitude. He wasn't sure what that said about him. He didn't dwell on it.

"I hear Snoke gave you the position of Head Boy."  
Kylo turns his head at the sound of Hux's voice, finding the pale boy standing in the doorway of his dorm room. He could feel Hux's anger from across the room, coming in great, big, suffocating waves and right towards Kylo. He was angrier than usual, and Kylo knew it was because he had wanted to be First Order's head boy since the very beginning, and the fact that someone he despised as much as he did Kylo had been given the position was probably crushing to him. He knew this conversation was going to end very badly.  
"Yeah," Kylo tells him, turns back around in his seat and back to his papers, "I'm doing revision, get out."  
It wasn't going to just end there. Hux took big broad steps across Kylo's dorm room until he reached the other side. Before Kylo had the chance to do anything, Hux had yanked his seat from underneath him, the fingers of one hand slipping under the fabric of Kylo's t-shirt collar and gripping onto it tight before he could fall, the chair crashing to the ground as Hux pulled Kylo's body against his, chest to chest, face to face, holding onto him only by his shirt, his fury practically tangible.  
"Get off me," Kylo says through gritted teeth, not fully meaning it.

  
"He only chose you to use you, you can see that, can't you?" Hux asks, fully ignoring Kylo's request, and Kylo had never seen him blow his lid like this before, had never seen him this visibly mad. It was fascinating, "surely you're not that much of a idiot that you can't."  
"He favours me," Kylo insists, his hand clenched into a fist on one side, "I'm sorry that you can't see that."  
"It's not true," Hux says, like he knows. Kylo's hand reaches up to Hux's, the one that's holding onto his t-shirt, and he grips it twice as hard, rips it from the fabric of his clothes and says, "I told you to get off me." Hux's hand falls back at his side, but he's nowhere near finished with what he had started, and Kylo is fairly certain the other man's body is trembling slightly, with his own rage.  
"He doesn't care about you, Kylo, and deep down you know that," Hux continues, and Kylo hates that he can't deny it, "you're being used as a pawn to do his bidding."  
"His bidding is what I want to do," Kylo answers, not even sure if it's the truth, "Dean Snoke, he trusts me more than he trusts you, Hux. I can do more for him than you ever could."  
Hux laughs darkly, bitterly, full of hate. He shakes his head then, is silent for a moment. "Maybe it's better off this way. I would detest myself if I were anything like you. Anything like the way he made you."  
Kylo's fist clenched tighter, his own anger starting to overcome his other emotions. "This is the way I'm supposed to be. I-It took me so long to see it, but Dean Snoke, he-he opened my eyes." He said the words like they had been read off of a script. Hux had picked up on it too, it seemed.  
"Things like that - you've quite literally lost your mind," he observed, his voice still as brimming with contempt and things he was just about holding back, "he's wiped your mind clean."

  
"And what would you have done?!" Kylo asks, and he's yelling now, leaning forward, towards Hux, "if he had chosen you, he would have done the exact same thing to you!"  
Hux nodded once, "Yes, probably," he agreed, his voice calmer, more composed overall, "but I'm capable of independent thinking, you see. I don't feel I'd be seduced by his words because I have a strong sense of will."  
"Pardon?" Kylo interrupts, smile tight, mocking, "It's just, hard to hear you when you're up your own ass."  
Hux raises his eyebrows, inhales sharply, but doesn't react otherwise. He continues, "But you - there's a reason he picked you, Kylo. Do you know why?"  
Kylo rolls his eyes, "Don't patronise me, Hux."  
"It's how one speaks to an infant, usually," Hux drawls, and Kylo's scowl deepens, "he picked you because you're easy to manipulate, you're so eager to please all the time, you're desperate - do you remember when we first met? Back when you were--"  
"No," Kylo almost snaps, "I don't. Shut up. I told you to get out, so go."  
He wondered why Hux was always so determined to break him down. He had always wondered why he was so cruel - it wasn't because of how he was now, because Hux was still cruel... _before_.

  
He had to resist the urge to ask. He had to not care about what everyone else thought. He had to try.  
"One last thing? Before I go," Kylo doesn't respond to Hux's words, just stands, breath heaving, trying to hold everything in. So Hux doesn't stop, "In my sophomore year, your junior year. The party that went on about a month after you were transferred. I called you weak, remember?"  
He asks the question so casually, like it means nothing. But maybe it does. Maybe Hux is about to take it back. So, Kylo nods, but still doesn't speak. He swallows.  
Hux takes in a breath, "You still are."  
Kylo's chest burns with a fresh wave of anger. He blinks, his vision beginning to blur with what must have been tears, and he hates it. The tears never fall, but he hates it. He hates how he isn't strong, that he's weak like Hux says he is. He hates Hux and how he humiliates him all the time, how he's always right and he's so smug about it.  
He hates Hux.  
"It's another reason he picked you," he can't stand the sound of Hux's voice, "because you're weak. You need to be stronger if you want to stand a chance against Snoke, before you lose yourself entirely. No matter how hard you're trying to be this new person, trying to be Kylo Ren--  
\--you're still Ben Solo."

  
Kylo lunges his arm forward, his fist about to connect with Hux's face, but Hux catches him just in time, grasps his wrist with one hand and swiftly, forcefully, moves his other hand across, slapping Kylo so hard that it stings. He does it with such efficiency, like he was used to it.  
"Get a hold of yourself," Hux instructs, monotone, watching with little interest as Kylo clutched at one side of his face, noticing blood form at the corner of his mouth where his lip had been split. Kylo rises back up a couple seconds later, and faces Hux again, a whole range of different feelings in his eyes, his demeanor. He still doesn't speak, right away. Hux's eyes meet his for a moment, and then he ungloves one hand and reaches his thumb out towards Kylo, wiping it gently over where his lip had begun to bleed, across, smearing the blood further and further to one corner, until it stained his skin, the bright red against his pale complexion, almost reaching his jawline. Kylo stood, breathing but motionless, looking straight ahead, in Hux's direction certainly, but not looking at the man himself. Like he was looking through him.

  
"You don't need to get so angry all the time, Kylo," Hux spoke softly, softer than Kylo had ever heard him speak before, but still firm, like it was an inconvenience. The mention of his name had made him re-focus on Hux, brown eyes looking into blue, "I'm only trying to help you. To protect you."  
Hux closes the space between them, kisses Kylo, tastes blood. Kylo kisses back, closes his eyes, bites down on Hux's lower lip, too hard. Doesn't believe Hux for a second, doesn't believe him even if he's telling the truth, doesn't trust him. Hates him. Tangles his tongue in Hux's mouth, makes him taste his spit and blood. Hux's fingers crawl in Kylo's hair, pull on it. Kylo hates Hux. Hux hates Kylo.  
When their kiss breaks, they're left standing there together, still staring into each other's eyes, one unable to read the other.  
"I hate you," Kylo whispers, his voice trembling with anger, sadness or both, his gaze intense.  
Hux just pulls back, with Kylo's blood on his chin, and looks the other man up and down. He squints, he smirks, and he replies  
"Do you really?"

  
And then, finally, he leaves. He's gone. Kylo slowly drags his long fingers down his face, where Hux had inflicted the damage, presses his fingers against it, and he feels his own pulse, he feels the dull ache. He pokes his tongue out, tastes the blood on his lips--  
and he doesn't hate the feeling. It doesn't hurt. Or, it does. But he likes it.  
He thinks about Hux. He hates Hux. Hux is his only friend.

 

* * *

 

 

The water of the shower cuts off and Kylo steps out, threads his fingers through his dark hair and wraps a towel around his waist. Hux had left earlier in the morning to attend a study group and Phasma, Hux's dorm roommate whom Kylo was relatively well-acquainted with, had also seemingly left, because when Kylo woke up, she was gone. Hux's dorm room was empty apart from him. Kylo smiled when he thought about how Hux might react to that. He stepped out of the bathroom and strolled into the bedroom area, where Hux's bed was still unmade, the way Kylo had left it when he had woken that morning. Facing his bed was a large, full-length mirror, one that Kylo caught his own reflection in, and he was a bit taken aback by what he saw. It was getting easier to get used to, though. He stares back at himself, at his reflection, and the dark lovebites that stood out so brilliantly against his skin, on his neck and his chest, his hips and the inside of his thighs. He could almost feel Hux's lips on him again when he saw each individual mark, could almost feel his hand around his neck, the pressure when he held tighter, squeezed down on his windpipe - he almost felt it all again, the second he caught sight of the light purple-ish bruising that covered his neck, the aches all over made him think of when Hux had one on his throat and the other pulling his hair, when Hux fucked him into the sheets, so hard, so rough and so good that his climax overwhelmed him, that he came all over the sheets. Hux had called him messy.

  
When they had first kissed, Kylo had hated Hux. A lot had happened in the months that followed. They kissed more, they made out more, they got each other off, gave each other head and they had sex often enough. Hux had actually taken Kylo's virginity, but Kylo had never told Hux it was his first time, he wouldn't dare. Hux had probably figured it out at some point anyway, because he always did. But he was still fairly certain that Hux hated him. He still treated him the same, with the same attitude, but Kylo found himself caring less and less as time went on. Hux's words just passed through him, with no real effect, because he was so used to them. Snoke had told him that to hurt was to show weakness, anyway. So he tried his very hardest to not let anything get to him.  
In summary, Hux hated Kylo, Hux fucked Kylo, kissed Kylo, spent time with Kylo, made out with Kylo, sucked Kylo off, and he still hated him. Kylo didn't have a doubt in his mind that everything they did had absolutely no feeling or romance attached to it. On Hux's side, anyway.  
Snoke had told him that if he were to open his heart, to show love or affection, to love another person made him vulnerable. So Kylo didn't think about his feelings for Hux. He just continued on the idea that he hated Hux, whether he actually did or not, because it was easier. Maybe Ben Solo would have dealt with it differently. But Ben Solo was gone.

  
Kylo stands staring at his reflection for longer than he realised, stood there deep in thought for more time than he had planned. He turns his back from the mirror, rakes his fingers through his hair, drops the towel from his waist and lets it fall to the floor. He pulls his underwear on after finding amongst Hux's sheets somewhere, something catching his eye above the bed's headboard. He was surprised he had never really studied it closely before, but it was a large corkboard, a huge amount of photos pinned to it. Photos that Hux had taken, obviously when he was more into photography, when he worked for the college newspaper. Kylo didn't recognize most of the people in the photos, and no-one really appeared in more than one photo. It wasn't like a corkboard anyone else would have, with photos of them with their friends or their family (Kylo realised he didn't know of any of Hux's family, and he didn't bring the topic up that often at all), it was more like Hux trying to keep track of as many people in the college as possible. Kylo couldn't decide whether it was sweet or slightly unnerving. His eyes focus in on one photo in particular. He reaches up, unpins it and holds the polaroid in his own hands. The boy in the photo was against a bright, green background, the sun casting shadows and light on his face. His look unfocused, smile uncertain, eyes innocent, unknowing.

  
Ben Solo. Kylo remembers the day well; it was the day he had first met Hux. When Hux was enchanting, and he kept rebuffing Ben, but Ben kept trying. And he was always mean. But then, he was enchanting. He studies the photo for a long, silent while, his legs tucked underneath him, sitting atop Hux's bed, becoming weak, allowing himself to feel a million things in one second, before he shuts it all off again. The key turned in the lock of the room's door, but he didn't fully notice it. The door shuts and it gets Kylo's attention; he whips his head over his shoulder and Hux is standing there. And Kylo hates this, he hates this thought above all other thoughts  
but Hux is still enchanting. And it's like Kylo had only figured it all out now, but it was always there.

  
"You're still here," Hux says, unfeeling, oblivious to it all, "I thought you had classes."  
"I do," Kylo replies, his voice too soft, too light. He has to try harder. "But not yet." He should say more, but his mind is swimming, so he can't manage it.  
Hux pulls his overcoat off, "So you've decided to take residence in my room until your classes?" he asks, "You have a dorm room, too, if you recall. Not far from here, actually, just down the hall."  
Kylo simply rolls his eyes, his shoulders sagging slightly, "I'll go."  
"Wait--" Hux holds a hand up, as if to silence Kylo by command, "what are you looking at?"  
Kylo felt himself panic just a smidge, inwardly, and then he turns the photo to face Hux, "From your corkboard."  
Hux looks confused, but not because of the photo. "You're awfully soft this morning."  
The comment takes Kylo aback completely. He feels stupid, and this obviously shows in his expression because Hux smiles in that twisted, satisfied way when he knows he's gotten under Kylo's skin. Ordinarily, Kylo would've hated it, but in the given moment, he did quite the opposite. Then he feels stupider.  
"I never said it was a bad thing," Hux says after a couple beats, when Kylo comes up with nothing. He's walking towards him now, towards the bed.  
"But you--"  
"Never said it was a good thing, either?" Hux interrupted; Kylo was brought back to the night at the party, when Hux blew smoke in his face, his eyes like stained glass, staring, pierced into Kylo's memory forever. Hux obviously was, too, that or he could seemingly predict Kylo's words. He wouldn't be too surprised. "That's true," he added, sitting on the edge of the bed, peering over Kylo's shoulder at the photo he held loosely in his palms.

  
"Do you miss him?" Hux wonders, his voice a near-whisper, his lips brushing against Kylo's earlobe, his gloved hands moving over his body, focusing on the bruised areas. Kylo swallows, shakes his head, slowly throws his head back as Hux's hand travels up his neck, his grip firm but not tight. He looks to his side, to Hux, and asks him, "Do you?"  
Hux just smiles, in the same way he did just moments ago, not meeting Kylo's gaze, engrossed in his hands on Kylo, the beautiful contrast of his almost translucent skin and the darkening purples, broken blood vessels that speckled the lovebites on his chest. Kylo wondered if he would ever get a straight answer out of him. Or, an answer of any kind, to any question at all.  
Kylo watches Hux watching him, watches when his lips move to the crook of his neck, feels his breath warm against it, the goosebumps form when Hux presses the gentlest kisses along his collarbone. He had never imagined kisses so soft could come from a man so steely, and when Hux placed a final kiss on his shoulder, he found himself wanting to be wrecked all over again.  
In an instant, Hux pulls back and observes Kylo once more, his expression unreadable, something in his eyes that Kylo couldn't distinguish. He never could wrap his head around Hux, and he was almost sure he never would.  
"Aren't you cold?" Hux has gone back to sounding like his usual, agitated self, but the question itself was uncharacteristically considerate no matter what tone it was delivered in. Kylo couldn't wait to see how Hux was inevitably using his kindness to get the upper hand, for something, somehow.  
The dark-haired boy took that as an opportunity and a signal to begin redressing, and hopped off the bed. He scooped his clothes up from where they were in a crumpled pile on the floor.

  
"Do you care?" Kylo wonders while he fastens the button on his skinny jeans, his tone irritated, slightly fed-up, because, well, he was.  
"I could," Hux answers, and another vague reply is enough to get a loud, heavy sigh out of Kylo. This was as good as it got, apparently. When he finishes dressing, he pulls himself off of Hux's bed and heads for the door, intending for it to end there, but Hux takes his hand right as he's about to go out and stands up himself. Kylo turns to face him, impatient, annoyed.  
"What?" Kylo huffs, refusing to look in Hux's direction. He feels Hux pull at the fabric of the black roll-neck that he wore, knowing without even looking that he had exposed a particularly dark lovebite-  
"I have to see Dean Organa," Kylo informs him. Hux is unphased.  
"Darling, please," he scoffs, which makes Kylo narrow his eyes, "do you know me at all?"  
"Not really," Kylo answers truthfully, arms folded. And then Hux is leaning in, again, and Kylo can hear him breathe, right next to him.  
"Let them know," he says, and sends shivers up Kylo's spine, "let them all know that it's me. That I'm the one that keeps bringing Kylo Ren to his knees."  
Kylo kisses Hux harshly, fiercely, hoping it makes his lips bleed. And then he leaves.

 

"...So, to make a long story short," Leia closed the door after herself and her son and made her way over to the desk of her office. "I had a conversation with a few of the other Deans and other members of faculty." She sat behind the desk and offered the seat on the opposite side to Kylo, and allowed a pause before what she said next, "And they're considering expulsion."  
"Expulsion?!" Kylo repeats, the anger coming into his voice immediately, "Dean Organa, are you going to do nothing to prevent this?"  
"Honey, calm down," Leia tells him, her tone comforting, as if he was the same person he always was, as if he hadn't distanced himself from her completely, "it's going to be okay."  
"You don't know that," Kylo replies, staring down at his knees, "what's their reasoning behind this? Who's responsible for making this decision?"  
"I do know that," Leia insists, "you're my son, I'm not going to just stand aside while you're expelled." Leia looks directly at Kylo, even though he's not looking back, "But something has got to change, Ben. I can't keep defending you again and again when you slip up. There's not much that can justify what you've done and yet here I am, making excuses for you every time."

  
"I'm so sorry," Kylo deadpans, not meaning a word of it.  
"Don't speak to me like that," Leia warns, and it's diffused, just like that, "You can't come at me all sarcastic when you take full responsibility for this," and yet, she doesn't sound rude. She's simply relaying the truth, "it's you that damages all the property, who flies into anger-- no-one else is responsible for that. You owe a huge amount of money in property damages to the college, and it's just going to keep piling up. I reiterate - something has to change. Han and I, we can't help you any more. We would like to, but you won't let us. So, now it's on your shoulders," she inhales, "and if you cause one more scene, you're gone. You're expelled."  
Kylo takes everything she says into consideration, is quiet for a moment after she finishes speaking, and then he says, "Dean Snoke won't let me get expelled."  
Leia raises her eyebrows, "You know that for sure, do you?"  
Kylo nods, "Yes, I do."  
"Okay," Leia says, her voice suggesting she doesn't completely agree, "well, I'm happy you're not getting expelled, but it doesn't end there. You still owe the school a lot of money, Ben. You've already got textbooks to pay for, tuition, I could go on forever-- what are you going to do about that?"  
"Why do you care?" Kylo wonders, "you're not my Dean. It's not your responsibility, Dean Organa."

  
"I used to be your Dean. I'm your mother," Leia says, as if Kylo doesn't already know, "Of course you're my responsibility."  
"I don't have to be. You don't have to feel that any more, if you don't want to." For the first time, Kylo stops looking down and looks up at Dean Organa, seeing his eyes in her eyes. "Things are different now. I'm an adult."  
Leia doesn't speak right away, just keeps her gaze with Kylo. "You're irresponsible. I have to tell it like it is or it'll never get through to you, sweetheart," her voice sounds sad. Kylo refuses to react to it. "No matter how much you hate me right now, you need guidance and you need direction. I'm not giving up on you."  
Kylo can't bear to keep eye contact with her, and so he breaks it, looking anywhere but directly ahead. "I have Dean Snoke. He's helping me."  
"He's not doing it right."  
It only takes a second, and then Kylo snaps. And he's shouting. "How could you know that, Dean Organa?! You don't know anything at all about Dean Snoke, you don't know what he thinks of me, or you, or anyone! How could you know that what he's doing isn't right?!"  
Leia raises her voice a small bit, but her tone is still even, demeanor still calm. "When he's turned all my son's sweetness and goodness into bitterness and hatred, I can't help but question his methods."  
"I was weak, he made me strong," Kylo says it like it's a fact, like he knows it for definite, "he made me see what I could be, who I could be, and he made it all possible!"

  
"Those words are not coming from your mouth, Ben, they're coming from his. Whether you like the fact or not, I know you better than anyone and I know that he is messing with your head. Ben, please look at me," Leia asks of him, but he avoids her eye contact still. "Ben," she repeats, her voice softer, and Kylo just wants to fall apart. He just wants everything to stop. He pulls himself out of the chair and heads for the door.  
"Ben," Leia calls a third time, "if you don't want to look at me, listen to me at least. Can you do that? Just this once, listen to me. Let me talk to you, please."  
It's all he wants to do. He just wants to talk to his mom, he wants her to tell him that everything will be okay because he doesn't know himself. He feels Snoke pull him one way, he feels his mother, his father, his uncle pulling him the other. And Hux is there in the middle, and Kylo is unsure of which way he's pulling, which way he wants Kylo to go. That was Hux - always vague and never certain. If only he knew how much his input would mean to Kylo.  
"Why are you so angry, sweetheart?" he hears Leia ask, her voice almost drowned out by his thoughts, but able to pierce through all of it still, "what is it you need? You know your father and I would do anything to help you. I just want to understand."  
"You can't," Kylo answers, his back still turned to Leia, "I wouldn't want you to."

  
He can feel Dean Organa cross the room, get closer to him, and his body tenses up, freezes, and his mind does the same thing. She doesn't say anything, though, just waits. Gives him his space, gives him time to think and breathe - she had always done that, ever since he was young. There's silence for about thirty seconds, and for a moment Kylo thinks it's over, that it ended there and he wasn't sure if he wanted it to.  
"That boy, the one you talked about all the time when you were a sophomore," Leia said, finally, and Kylo wasn't sure where she was going with this, "Hux was his name. You told me that you thought you loved him, once. Do you remember?"  
The question made him feel stripped bare, like he was vulnerable all over again. Like he was weak again. His heart felt light for a moment and then it felt strangled, and his stomach felt sick. And he does remember; it was night time, he was nineteen, he was drunk and he was almost crying, and telling his mom how he thought he loved Hux, who had been nothing but horrible to him since the day they met, but he had never given up. It was what he was known for. He was hugging Leia then, and he wanted to do that now, but he didn't. He just nodded.

  
"You still see him, don't you? The lovebite on your neck, did he do that?" he can hear Leia's smile through her words, hear the amusement in her voice - it sounded unfamiliar at this point. Kylo smiles the tiniest smile too, though it only lasts a split-second, and he's not facing Leia, so she doesn't notice.  
"Yes," Kylo replies, and it's a bit embarrassing, but Hux did say he wanted people to know. He keeps his voice low, unfeeling. "Why do you ask?"  
Leia folds her arms, "It's just comforting to know," she sighs quietly, and suddenly sounds sad, "that you have someone there, who cares about you."  
Kylo wonders if it's true. He wonders if Hux does care.  
"I-I have to go to class," he tells Leia, but he can't bring himself to face her, afraid that he'll fall apart completely if he were to look into her eyes, if he got any glimpse of her expression. Her voice alone was tormenting enough.  
Leia nods, "You can go. Think about what I said, okay, honey? And if you ever think of it, you can always talk to me," she tries to sound as composed as possible, but she couldn't quite pull it off.  
"I don't hate you," Kylo says, takes in a breath, "you said before, that I hated you and I don't."

 

Before it can go further, before he can deconstruct what he had worked so long on, what Dean Snoke had built for him, he leaves Dean Organa's office, not looking back once. He blinks and blinks and blinks again, stalking through the college campus, keeping his head down and averting everyone's gaze. He weaves in and out of the students he's amongst, not paying attention fully, not watching where he steps. He feels himself crash into someone else, their bodies colliding with force, but it was okay because it was him. He could tell by his scent, by the clothes he wore, and the fact that he didn't lean in or apologize, that he brushed him off.  
"Kylo?" Hux's brow furrows with either annoyance or concern (more likely the former) and he takes Kylo by either of his shoulders, looks him up and down. "Keep yourself together," he advises, his thumb reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind Kylo's ear, wiping his opposite thumb under either of Kylo's eyes, cold as usual. And Kylo didn't know whether he performed this actions with caring in mind, or if it was more like a bad habit, a routine, "shouldn't you be at class?"  
He frees his grip on Kylo and walks ahead of him, away, to wherever he needed to be. Kylo stares after him, his mind split in two, and Hux, in the center of everything.  
And he is enchanting.

 

 

 


End file.
